


Message Sent

by deanbennylife (kams_log)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, Love Confessions, M/M, Mute Dean Winchester, Selectively Mute Dean, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/deanbennylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean did it. He couldn’t help it. That night, he typed out his message, all the words he felt inside but would never have the courage to say out loud.</p><p>He hadn’t meant to actually send it though. And now the letters Message Sent glowed at him through the darkness, the evidence of his exhaustion and anxiety that had prompted him to accidentally press the glowing send button.</p><p>Dean cursed and pressed the screen against his forehead. He counted his breaths, not stopping until he reached twenty-five and finally dared to lower his phone. He turned the phone back on and stared at the message.</p><p>Message read.</p><p>Dean dropped the phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message Sent

Panic. He was going to have a damn _panic attack_. Dean’s breathing shuddered through him, mind short circuiting as he stared blankly at the phone in his sweaty palms.

This was all his mom’s fault. If she hadn’t goaded him into this, this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t be terrified, freaking out, on the verge of locking himself in the bathroom and never coming out.

His mom had known about his crush for years. She’d seen the way he stared at his best friend, the way his fingers itched forward sometimes, against his will. She was too smart. It probably didn’t help that Dean couldn’t shut up about him, ever. Too many times Dean had gotten in trouble for never giving up his friend, and vise versa. All too often Dean had been ready to take any stand necessary to defend and protect the best person he’d ever known. It was only matched by the number of times his friend had stood up for him. They trusted each other like nothing else, even when it hurt and when they doubted.

Mary had seen through it all and caught Dean one afternoon as they were prepping for dinner.

“You should tell him,” she smiled. “I think it might be time, Dean.”

It was all Dean could do not to drop the potato peeler in his hands, throat locking up in terror.

Sensing his fear, she reassured, “Even if you don’t, you should at least write it down. Type it, whatever you need. I’m sure it will help.”

Dean did it. He couldn’t help it. That night, he typed out his message, all the words he felt inside but would never have the courage to say out loud.

He hadn’t meant to actually _send_ it though. And now the letters _Message Sent_ glowed at him through the darkness, the evidence of his exhaustion and anxiety that had prompted him to accidentally press the glowing _send_ button.

Dean cursed and pressed the screen against his forehead. He counted his breaths, not stopping until he reached twenty-five and finally dared to lower his phone. He turned the phone back on and stared at the message.

_Message read._

Dean dropped the phone.

…

He turned off his phone that night, too terrified of what his friend would say. The next morning he was quiet, unable to speak from the fear that had wrapped around his heart.

His chest felt like ice. His tongue felt like lead. He’d barely slept and he could feel it in his bones.

“What’s eating you?” Sammy asked around a mouthful of omelet.

Dean didn’t answer, instead going straight for his own plate. Mary kissed him on the temple, eyes worried as she scooped out eggs and ham to put on his plate for him.

“What happened, sweetheart?” She asked.

Dean’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding together. She saw the shadows of his cheeks tighten and she sighed. Her palm cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing across his cheekbone.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Mary promised. “Just let me know what you need, I’ll help.”

Dean tightened his fist and sharply signed, “ _Stay home._ ”

Mary’s eyebrows drew together in worry. Her lips pursed, but she nodded.

“Are you sick?”

Dean bit his lip and pressed his palm over his chest, middle finger down against the top of his heart.

Mary smiled softly and kissed his forehead.

“Eat something,” she replied. “You can stay home today. But _only_ today.”

Dean smiled weakly and took his plate to the table. Sam stared at him curiously, but kindly didn’t ask. Besides, Sam probably already knew.

Dean ate slowly. He only got up once to wave goodbye to Sam as he headed off for school on the bus. After that, he returned to the table. He stared at his offline phone and willed himself not to turn it back on.

…

It was noon when a fist started hammering on his front door. Dean jumped at the sound, but Mary was quick on her feet. She set down her book on the stand by her recliner, climbing up to shuffle toward the door and check through the peephole.

“Dean?” She called, “I believe it’s for you.”

Dean flushed scarlet and tightened the fierce grip he held on his phone. Hours later, he still couldn’t turn it on. But God help him if he was ever going to be able to set it down again.

He slowly climbed to his feet, already dreading the possibility of who was at the door. It could only be one person, he knew. It would be dumb to assume otherwise.

But he almost found himself hoping he was wrong. Almost.

He glanced through the peephole, Mary standing close beside him. Worried blue eyes filled his vision. It flooded his chest, making him feel warm and itchy all over. He wanted to run back upstairs and hide in his room.

It was at that moment he realized his mother wasn’t just supporting him, she was blocking his escape route.

He cursed inwardly and slowly unlatched the door, pulling it open with trembling fingers.

Benny Lafitte stood on the other side of the door. His face was red, a little sweaty, with his eyes wide open and overwhelmed with concern. Dean wanted to drop his gaze to the ground. He wasn’t ready to face his friend yet. He wasn’t ready to deal with the rebuke, the anger that Dean wasn’t even brave enough to face up to it.

He wasn’t sure he could handle anything right then.

The last thing he expected was Benny’s arms immediately reaching out and pulling him into a tight hug.

Dean’s eyes flew open wide as Benny’s fingers clutched tight to the back of his shirt, holding him like he was going to break apart if he let go. For all Dean knew, he might. He grabbed onto the sides of Benny’s shirt and held on, chest tightening with panic. His phone was pressed against his palm and Benny’s abdomen. It was the only thing that didn’t feel like it was on fire.

_What the hell is he doing?_

“Freaked out when ya’ didn’t get to class, chief,” Benny grumbled next to his ear. “Didn’t ya’ get my texts?”

Dean shook his head slowly, grip tightening.

Benny’s abrupt laughter took Dean by surprise. His friend pulled away from him, hands moving up to touch Dean’s shoulders as he leveled his gaze.

“Dean… I just abou’ had a heart attack last night,” Benny explained. “Did ya’ mean everythin’ you said?”

Dean nodded numbly, still too frozen to speak.

Benny smiled anyway and brought his hands up to Dean’s face. It was in that moment that Dean realized Benny was shaking just as much as him, but smiling even more.

“Thank God, chief,” Benny muttered. It was the only warning Dean had before Benny’s lips descended on his, locking him in place as Benny kissed him.

The sensation was soft, cool, like marbles in silk, rolling across his own with every bend and dip of their mouths slotting together.

Dean sighed, smiling when Benny pulled back to look into his eyes.

“T-That okay?” He asked nervously. Dean laughed and dropped his phone for the second time in twenty four hours. He pulled Benny back and kissed him soundly, relief and joy flooding everything inside him until he felt as light as the air around them.

He didn’t care if his mother saw. He didn’t care if the neighbors saw. It was like whiplash, but without the consequences. His day or terror was now the best day of his life.

He tugged Benny past the threshold and beamed, eyes lighting when they locked with Benny’s blues.

“More than okay,” Dean whispered, finally regaining his voice for the day. “Stay.”

Benny’s body relaxed in an instant, relief evident in his eyes. “O’ course.”

Dean closed the door behind them. Benny didn’t leave for the rest of the day. Mary smiled softly in the background.

When the school called about her tardy son, she answered it with a grin and replied, “Dean was sick this morning. He’s feeling much better now, but he won’t be able to come in until tomorrow. Thank you.”

Dean pretended not to hear her speak. But with Benny’s legs tangled with his on the couch, he couldn’t agree more.

He was feeling much better now. Even better than okay.

He felt perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> me: lovefromdean.tumblr.com & deanbennylife.tumblr.com
> 
> i hope you liked it~! thank you for reading :)


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